Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns most of the characters and scenery; I just made up the plot and some of the villains. I have no money, so please don't sue me. 

Attention: This is a 6th year story so it has spoilers for all the other books.

Reviews are appreciated, thanks! 


In Fire Lies Redemption

Prologue: The Warehouse

By Marz

            They marched silently through the twisting alleys of the slum. Decrepit buildings loomed on either side. Hidden beings watched from broken windows. The leader of the group held up his hand, signaling the other seven to stop. He pulled a roll of parchment from his sleeve.

            "Lumos," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a faint blue light revealed the map he held. They circled about him, cloaks wrapped tight against the damp predawn air.

            "The disturbance was centered in the building around the next corner. The Seer in the Department of Mysteries couldn't give us any more detail than very big and very dark magic. They didn't bother to shield their spell either. That could mean a few things. Most likely is they did whatever they've done and disapparated; it could also be a trap so if I say get out, you wait for nothing and no one, just go.    Erickson, Greensford, Davis, McCube since you're from DMLE I want you to hang back and guard the doors.  You haven't been trained to fight dark wizards, so any one and anything that comes out of that building you stun; I don't care if its one of us, or the minister of magic himself, you take out any one who tries to leave. Under stood?"

            Four members of the group nodded obediently.

            " Tonks," he continued "You're with me. Smith and Blicksberry, you're second team. We're going right, you're circling from the left. Report anything odd. Every one stay focused. Any Questions?"

            There were none.

            "Lets move then."

            The group circled the corner and stood before the warehouse. Tonks stumbled over a pile of rubbish as she looked up at it. It was a towering ancient looking thing of rusted metal and concrete. Layers of filth dulled the few unbroken windows. Ravens flapped and resettled themselves on the crumbling rain gutters and cawed almost timidly.

The eight wizards raised their wands in unison and cast an anti-disapparation ward. The officers of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement marched off, one to guard each side. Shacklebolt tore the layer of caution tape from the door. The two teams entered and split up, wands at the ready. Greensford sealed the door behind them.

            The building contained only a few small offices, which they found empty. The rest of the warehouse was one cavernous room, with stalagmites of crates rising overhead. Faint grey light floated through the skylights, catching a thin trail of smoke in the center of the room.  Shacklebolt whispered a new command into a seashell in the palm of his hand and then held it to his ear. Instead of the ocean he heard the other Aurors respond. Smith and Blicksberry were circling the outer edge of the room. Tonks and Shacklebolt waited, giving them time to get in position. They would come in from one side, he and Tonks the other. If anyone remained at the source of the smoke, they would be surrounded.

            Shacklebolt nodded and started forward. Tonks followed a few paces behind. They turned the corner and she slipped, landing on her hands and knees in a huge puddle. He pulled her to her feet. Her robes clung to her, soaked. Tentatively she pulled a handful of cloth to her nose; it was sour and coppery.

            "S' blood." She said in her quietest whisper.

            Shacklebolt merely nodded and continued on, his boots sending ripples through the liquid. They came upon a large area free of crates, and found the source of the smoke. A chard corpse knelt against a smoldering forklift. Its hands curled together against its chest in a silent plea. On the floor around it lay five other still forms. Smith and Blicksberry appeared out of the crates on the other side of the clearing. They all moved in to investigate.

Tonks turned over one body and found it had been completely eviscerated. Shacklebolt went to inspect the pair lying in the center of the gruesome scene. A tall woman, face hidden by dark curly hair, lay sprawled over the chest of a dead man.  The man had a hole in the center of his forehead, a trail of blood leaked slowly from it.  He recognized the wound. It was not caused by magic, but by a muggle fire arm.    Smith started to turn one of the bodies when the arm he grabbed came off. Despite his years of experience he yelped in surprise. The sound echoed like a bomb going off.   Shacklebolt was leaning over the corpses when Smith shouted. He jumped back in reflex. Just as he did the dead woman moved. Her head jerked up as if suddenly waking, her face was spattered in blood. The rage in her eyes was enough to make him take another step away and raise his wand. She leapt to her feet, drawing the attention of all the Aurors. Shacklebolt noticed the woman was nearly equal to his height.

            "Just calm down miss." said Shacklebolt coolly. She wore baggy muggle clothes, but her eyes were strange. Something about her screamed magic. Her eyes darted around the circle. Her hand blurred in sudden motion. There was a sheen of metal in her hand and a moment later Blicksberry was stumbling backwards, a hilt sticking out of his chest. The woman bowled him over, ducking and dodging curses as the Aurors pursued.

"Smith, stay with him, call St. Mungos!" Shacklebolt pulled the shell from his pocket, and called the DMLE's at the perimeter.  "We've got an Auror down and there's some thing running for it, type unknown. Current form; a very tall, dark haired women in muggle clothes. Confirm?"    

McCube, Erickson, and Greensford affirmed one after the other but Davis missed his turn to answer.

"Davis, can you hear me?"


 Shackleblot tore the shell away from his ear; the screaming was incredibly loud even as he held it at arm's length.  He ordered the others to Davis' side of the building. A minute later he burst out the door, Tonks on his heels. The street was empty.

Tonks lifted her wand. "Point me!" she ordered. The wand jerked around suddenly and twisted her arm towards a rubbish bin. Davis lay on the other side. His hands pressed to his face, blood ran between his fingers. She leaned over and shook his arm.

"My eyes, oh." he moaned weakly.

"You'll be all right, Medi-witches are on the way..." she trailed off as she saw movement on the roof across the street. "Kingsley!" she shouted pointing. He turned just in time to see her disapparate.

Nymphadora Tonks stumbled as she landed on the roof. She wind-milled her arms to get better balance on the moderately slanted surface.

It's almost as bad as the warehouse. She thought. Rows of peaked skylights and chimneys created a plethora of hiding places. The horizon glowed faintly red, but the light was not helpful. Tonks scrunched her forehead in concentration, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again the world was black, white, grey and perfectly well illuminated. Good thing I watched all those muggle science programs with dad, who'd have thought being color blind could help you see in the dark?       She stepped around the first chimney, wand raised. Nothing there. Her feet made tiny metallic clangs as she walked. She worked her way up and down the roof, finding nothing. She was almost to the end of it when she flushed her quarry.  As she circled a chimney some thing moved in the corner of her eye. She whirled.


The tall women flew backwards in a burst of red light, slamming into a skylight with a loud cracking sound. A switchblade flew from her hand in a graceful arc. Tonks surprised her self by catching it with out getting cut. Tonks walked toward her carefully, she could see her face now, pale and wide with innumerable bits of metal pinned through her ears, eyebrows, nose and even a ring through her lower lip. Her eyes were oddly square, the dark irises speckled with white dots. They darted about nervously in her head as Tonks approached.

"Who are you?" the women demanded in an improbably young voice.

"I'm Auror Tonks. You're under arrest."

The woman leaned back against the skylight.

"Put up your hands." she ordered.

The woman slowly lifted her arms upward, but just as they came even with her chest she slammed her elbows back. The skylight shattered and she fell backwards in a rain of glass. Tonks rushed to the edge and saw the woman scramble to her feet, staggering away.


The woman was knocked sprawling by the jet of red light and did not rise.

Tonks searched the pockets of her robe and found her speak-shell. She called Shacklebolt.

"I've got her."